


To Show Kindness

by DetectiveJoan



Category: The Hour (TV)
Genre: Female Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 15:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16161710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveJoan/pseuds/DetectiveJoan
Summary: The day after Freddie gets released from hospital, Marnie makes her way to Bel’s flat with her largest casserole dish balanced on her hip.





	To Show Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "sick/unwell" for the [Trope_Writing_Prompts](https://pillowfort.io/community/Trope_Writing_Prompts) community on Pillowfort.
> 
> Title from the LDS children's hymn "[I'm Trying To Be Like Jesus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWiSXDNtikQ)".

The day after Freddie gets released from hospital, Marnie makes her way to Bel’s flat with her largest casserole dish balanced on her hip. She has to ring the buzzer twice before she hears harried steps on the stairs and quickly pulls on her most ingratiating smile.

Bel pulls up short as soon as she opens the door.

“Marnie?” she asks, more confusion than greeting.

“Bel, darling,” Marnie bubbles, refusing to let the tone of surprise stop her. “Oh, thank goodness I found you. Hector wasn’t quite sure he’d remembered your address correctly. I was just expecting I’d have to try the next building over.”

It’s a lie straight through; she’d gotten Ms. Rowley’s home address from an overly-gossipy but extremely sympathetic assistant at the BBC, and she had copied it down from the personnel records herself so she knew it was correct. Hector had no idea she was here.

“You don’t mind letting me in, do you?” she continues. “This has gotten rather heavier than I expected.”

Marnie shifts the weight of the dish in her hands and Bel seems to see it for the first time. Her eyes are unusually unfocused. The bags beneath them are notable despite the visible layer of powder caked over them and the disheveled hair hanging loosely around her face.

“Of course,” Bel says, too late, stepping back and allowing Marnie space to squeeze into the small entryway. “I’m just here.” She gestures to the first landing and leads the way up the stairs.

The flat itself is somehow smaller than Marnie had imagined, though that was surely due in some part to the mess. Unlike Bel’s office, which always had an air of organized chaos, this feels simply untidy. In the kitchen the sink and trash are both overflowing, and every flat surface in the living room is stacked high with books and loose papers. Various piles of newsprint vie for most of the floor space.

Bel follow’s Marnie’s gaze; a slight blush creeps up her neck.

“Sorry for the state of things,” she offers, hastily shifting dishes until there’s enough space for Marnie to set her things down on the table. “I, uh, I wasn’t expecting company.”

Marnie can hear in the hesitation the truth that the space is rarely in better shape. One would think a reporter would have a better poker face, but she’d never seen Bel without her every emotion on display.

“Please,” Marnie says smoothly, “I should be the one apologizing to you. To drop in without invitation like this — so impolite! But when I heard you’d be out of the office all week I couldn’t resist cooking you up a little something. There’s nothing I hate so much as having to worry about food while I’m unwell, and I thought a chicken casserole would be just the thing. A bit heartier than the standard soup, and there’s enough there to last a few days.”

“You must be confused,” Bel says, though she herself sounds unsure. “I’m not ill. Freddie’s the one who —”

“Freddie has you looking after him,” Marnie presses, “not to mention a whole team of nursing staff if the rumors about him being in hospital these past weeks are true. But who’s looking after you?”

Bel straights up automatically. “I don’t need looking after,” she says, voice almost back to its typical sharpness. Marnie can’t resist a small smile at how quickly she transformed at the slightest perceived accusation of weakness.

“No, I don’t suppose you do,” Marnie allows, cocking her head. “But I would say you rather deserve it. Wouldn’t you?”

**Author's Note:**

> me, casually, into a megaphone: ADULT WOMEN TAKING CARE OF EACH OTHER IN SPITE OF EVERYTHING IS MY JAM
> 
> I'm DetectiveJoan and you can find me on [tumblr](http://detectivejoan.tumblr.com/) and pillowfort


End file.
